AR A GOOD TALE OF THEMSELVES.

The inn-yard was in a sort of combustion when they alighted; insomuch,
that they could scarce get man or boy to take care of their horses, so
full were the whole household of some news which flew from tongue to
tongue, the import of which they were for some time unable to discover.
At length, indeed, they found it respected matters which touched them
nearly.

"What is the matter, say you, master?" answered, at length, the head
hostler, in reply to Tressilian's repeated questions.--"Why, truly,
I scarce know myself. But here was a rider but now, who says that the
devil hath flown away with him they called Wayland Smith, that won'd
about three miles from the Whitehorse of Berkshire, this very blessed
morning, in a flash of fire and a pillar of smoke, and rooted up the
place he dwelt in, near that old cockpit of upright stones, as cleanly
as if it had all been delved up for a cropping."

"Why, then," said an old farmer, "the more is the pity; for that Wayland
Smith (whether he was the devil's crony or no I skill not) had a good
notion of horses' diseases, and it's to be thought the bots will spread
in the country far and near, an Satan has not gien un time to leave his
secret behind un."

"You may say that, Gaffer Grimesby," said the hostler in return; "I have
carried a horse to Wayland Smith myself, for he passed all farriers in
this country."

"Did you see him?" said Dame Alison Crane, mistress of the inn
bearing that sign, and deigning to term HUSBAND the owner thereof, a
mean-looking hop-o'-my-thumb sort or person, whose halting gait, and
long neck, and meddling, henpecked insignificance are supposed to have
given origin to the celebrated old English tune of "My name hath a lame
tame Crane."

On this occasion he chirped out a repetition of his wife's question,
"Didst see the devil, Jack Hostler, I say?"

"And what if I did see un, Master Crane?" replied Jack Hostler, for,
like all the rest of the household, he paid as little respect to his
master as his mistress herself did.

"Nay, nought, Jack Hostler," replied the pacific Master Crane; "only if
you saw the devil, methinks I would like to know what un's like?"

"You will know that one day, Master Crane," said his helpmate, "an ye
mend not your manners, and mind your business, leaving off such idle
palabras.--But truly, Jack Hostler, I should be glad to know myself what
like the fellow was."

"Why, dame," said the hostler, mo